💾 Archived View for clemat.is › saccophore › library › ebooks › bofh › newbofh › bofh11dec.txt captured on 2022-01-08 at 14:11:15.
⬅️ Previous capture (2021-12-03)
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It's a sad day in network operations. The pimply-faced-youth has decided
to move on. Apparently, there are greener pastures out there that have a
greater attraction for the young and foolish. He's accepted a position
as a networks engineer for an oil company where the workmates are
reasonable and the pay compromisingly attractive.
With a small amount of sentimentality, he takes his leave after two
weeks' notice, during which time the boss gains the not unfamiliar
"permanently hunted" expression...
Apparently, a 'misprint' in the on-line phone directory has seen his
'wrong number' count rise dramatically. Changing phone numbers didn't
seem to help either for some reason. Finding out that he'd put in for,
and been granted, a transfer to Wales led to some quite involved and
desperate legal wrangles that kept him busy for a couple of days.
The interview process for a PFY replacement begins and it seems obvious
that the calibre of applicants is not even up to prospective PFY
potential.
Me: "A user complains about network speed. Would you investigate the
problem or disconnect the network port altogether?"
They: "Investiga..."
Me: "Thank you, we'll let you know. Next!"
Me: "It's 4.54pm on a Friday and a user calls with a TCP/IP query. What
do you do?"
They: "Answer their query?"
Me: "Trick question. You never answer the phone after 3pm on Friday!
Even IF you're still at work! ...NEXT!"
Me: "You discover that the router firmware is several revisions out of
date. Which do you do first: fill out a change-control form, arrange for
storage of the old eproms, or order the upgrade?"
They: "Order the upgrade?"
Me: "No, crash the router every three hours until the boss begs you to
upgrade as soon as possible, which will be four hours overtime at double
rate. NEXT!"
After two days of interviewing, the boss decides that he'll pick the
applicant. Sure enough, he picks Ronald, one of the worst people
imaginable, one with blatant depth perception problems. And the users
love him which is always a warning sign. I make the most of a bad thing
until I can figure out a plan.
"OK Ron, I'll just show you ar..."
"No, Ronald, not Ron."
"I see." I make a mental note to leave a few floor tiles balanced
precariously for his benefit.
I prepare him for his career in network support by getting him to dust
out all the cabling ducts.
Two days and one ducting accident later, Gerald starts as our latest
PFY. A puerile addition to the workforce, but at least he's rude to the
users. Still, he lacks the killer instinct which distinguishes a true
networking professional from the amateurs. And the technical
intelligence not to wear the raincoat with the large metal fasteners
when he's directed to the roof to 'calibrate the satellite antenna'
during a thunderstorm. Whoopsy. Still, surface burns apparently heal
fairly quickly.
Gerald follows Ronald's example in taking extended sick leave, and I'm
left to hold the fort by myself. Things are very hectic as there's a
limit to the number of phone calls you can listen to whilst still
leaving time to play network Doom against the old PFY over the Internet.
Also, it seems to be getting extremely difficult to get applicants for
the PFY's position. In fact, nigh-on impossible. Apparently, word has
got out to the agencies that there is safer work juggling chainsaws full
tilt on a unicycle down Battersea Rise, and they're staying away in
droves.
Because I'm so short-staffed, I don't get round to fixing a lot of the
network errors that plague the place. Like the boss's UTP port, which
suddenly appears to have gone open circuit. Luckily, I'm able to restore
interim connectivity to him by giving him a spare 2400 modem so he can
dial the internal extension of our modem banks. At 2400 baud, his file
server really hums. Not to mention the power supply of the modem which
draws so much power that the lights dim when he switches it on.
The boss is at his wit's end when I offer him a possibility. If he
offered a finder's fee and a reasonable rate, I might be able to replace
the PFY.
The boss jumps at the outstretched straw and mentions two very
acceptable numbers. I give the PFY a call and make him an offer he could
refuse but won't.
He doesn't.
A day later the PFY is back in business having returned from his holiday
to a pay rise. What the boss doesn't know can't hurt him. Except for
that carpet tack I drove into the base of his chair.
A high pitched scream filters through to the control room as I shake the
PFY's hand.
I LOVE this business.
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